


Baby vs. Blowing Up

by WeBuiltThePyramids



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Babysitting, Gen, Humor, Quintis baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeBuiltThePyramids/pseuds/WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: Team Scorpion has to rush off for a last minute job, leaving Happy and Toby's son in the hands of a very unwilling babysitter.





	Baby vs. Blowing Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired entirely by conversations at Fanforum.

_From: Toby Curtis Phone_

_Florence –_

_Really appreciate this. Just keep him fed and dry and entertained. Milk is in the fridge, everything else in the diaper bag. See you tonight._

So this was the "text with everything you need" they'd promised before darting out the door with the others, leaving her standing awkwardly beside couch with a twelve week old sitting in his carrier on the coffee table.

Why had she been saddled with Happy and Toby's offspring? She wasn't a part of their team. And she  _really_ did not like babies.

But she probably liked them a little more than she liked the idea of blowing up. And after all the time she had spent living next to them and being pulled into their cases, Florence had no problem believing that whatever they were working on today  _could_ blow up half the city, as Toby had hurriedly explained to her while pulling her from her lab to the garage by her elbow.

Patrick Walter Quinn – Curtis was not crying, she observed. So he probably wasn't hungry. And if the possibility existed that he might be hungry, he probably hadn't eaten recently, which meant there was probably no diaper issue either.

"So why on Earth are you staring at me?" She asked, as if the three – month – old was going to respond.

Patrick blinked.

Florence sighed. "Okay. So your parents want me to keep you entertained." She thought a moment. "Okay. How about this, kid?" She leaned over in front of the carrier, putting her hands on her knees. "I'm guessing that you may like chemistry jokes, if only  _periodically_." She cocked her head and opened her mouth in a way she hoped was comical. Patrick stared at her blankly, and Florence frowned. "No? Okay." She straightened up. "Fair enough." She drummed her fingers on her hips. "You know Patrick, anyone who knows me would say this is grossly out of character but I actually prefer it when humans can talk. At least then they can tell me what they want to do and they understand when I tell them to shut the hell up."

Patrick's eyes widened, and Florence felt a rush of panic. "No no, please don't cry, please don't cry." She was sure her face visibly relaxed when the baby smacked his lips and remained otherwise silent. "Good boy."

Her phone buzzed, and as she fished it out of her jeans Florence hoped against hope that it was someone from the team telling her they were done, crisis averted, just leave the baby on the table and go back to the lab because they would be home soon. The text  _was_  from a member of Scorpion, the words  _From: Sylvester_ glowing up at her on the screen, but she suspected that it was not a message that would inform her that she was relieved of duty.

_Hey, how's it going?_

Florence glanced at Patrick. He still wasn't crying.

_Successful so far._

Her phone almost immediately buzzed again. She supposed that was a good sign. If the city was seconds from blowing up he wouldn't be texting.

_From: Sylvester_

_Good._

Yep. She hadn't fed Patrick or changed Patrick's diaper or amused Patrick or done anything that made any difference as to whether she was here or not, but hey. She'd already kept this baby alive longer than the pet iguana she'd adopted from her first – grade class at the end of the year.

She still felt bad about that.

_From: Sylvester_

_Happy wants me to tell you that he has a little activity seat under her desk. She says Toby probably forgot to mention it._

Toby had forgotten to mention it.  _Thanks. He doesn't like my periodic table jokes._

She stuck her phone in her back pocket and walked around Happy's desk, locating the activity seat underneath. Guessing that the Quinn – Curtis duo didn't want their son playing in that specific location, she dragged it out into the middle of the floor before returning to the carrier and lifting him out. "You seem to be about fifteen pounds," she muttered as she pulled the baby close to her. "That's about the fiftieth percentile for a three – month – old boy, I think. You don't care," she added when she got no response. "Whatever, kid. Let's just set you down in this thing and you can be amused at how different things have different textures."

Coincidentally, when she got Patrick settled in the seat, the baby immediately started feeling the different fabrics attached to one side.

Florence pulled out her phone to check the time. She'd only been in this garage for fifteen minutes. "Ugh," she muttered. She had wanted to work on something today. She hadn't had anything specific in mind, but that didn't change the fact that she had  _plans,_  dammit, and why couldn't Ralph or Patty have watched the kid?

She supposed if she had posed that question to Paige or Walter they would have said something about the teenagers having school. Florence rolled her eyes.

She was about to put her phone back in her pocket when another text came through.

_From: Sylvester_

_So you're saying you told him a chemistry joke and didn't get a reaction?_

Why had she made the initial contact with these people?

_Wow that's funny you make that up yourself?_

Patrick made a squealing sound and Florence jumped. When she saw him smiling and batting at an insect shaped object attached to the activity seat, she put a hand over her eyes. "Jesus, child, I thought I'd killed you."

Patrick stared at her for a few seconds before going back to reaching for the bug toy. Florence shook her head, dropping into the closest chair. Three – month – olds slept a lot, right? She could do some work while Patrick napped. It wouldn't have to be a total loss of a day.

Her phone buzzed again.

_From: Walter O'Dumbass Phone_

_Happy thinks that you're texting Sly because something is wrong and you don't want to tell her. Toby says he's sure things are fine and took her phone so she doesn't bother you. Paige suggested I tell you to affirm Patrick Walter's condition for Happy's peace of mind. Also no bomb yet so you should be still alive._

Florence rolled her eyes. Because the only reason she would willingly socialize with someone was if something was terribly wrong…okay, she supposed she couldn't blame the mechanic. And it was her first job since she'd had the baby – she'd only mentioned it four times in the ninety seconds that Florence had been in the garage before they'd taken off. She pulled up Toby's number.

_Your offspring is fine. Playing in activity seat. Appears content._

She had barely hit send before Patrick started screaming.

* * *

 It had turned out that the baby was hungry, which she deduced by incorrectly guessing what was the problem and leaving her with a still fussy baby and a dry diaper that was in three pieces because she'd completely failed to notice how easy it was to take off and had resorted to scissors she'd found on Paige's desk. It occurred to Florence halfway through the bottle that she probably was supposed to know how much he was expected to drink at a time. It occurred to her when he threw up the first six ounces that she was probably supposed to burp him.

It occurred to her four ounces and two burps later that Walter's comment about how she likely hadn't been blown up yet was probably supposed to be comforting.

What on Earth did Paige see in that man?

"So what happens now," she asked Patrick when he smacked his lips and refused the bottle after six ounces and three burps, "do you pee or do you sleep? What order does this happen in?" Patrick stared at her with wide eyes. "Do you have some sort of vision problem that makes me look like I have three heads or something?" She asked. Almost immediately a frown came over her face. "Also why do I keep talking to you like you're gonna answer me?"

Patrick grinned.

Ah, the first positive response she'd gotten from him all day. "You think that's funny?" She asked, her voice taking on a tone she couldn't remember using before, encouraged by the baby's continued grin. "You think that's super, super funny?"

She decided to try and lay him down for a nap, and ignored the little voice in the back of her head that said she was only making that decision for selfish reasons. But no matter the motive, it seemed to be the right decision, because Patrick was out within five minutes, laying on his back in the middle of Walter and Paige's bed, cuddled up in what was apparently called a sleep sack.

Florence grinned triumphantly.

The feeling only lasted a few seconds, fading rapidly when she realized that while she may not have to be as proactive about babysitting while he was napping, she couldn't exactly leave him and go back to her lab.

"I was supposed to be productive today," she muttered under her breath.

Her eyes fell on Walter's desk. There was a pad of paper sitting on it, and pens in the mug. She could, at the very least, do some old – fashioned brainstorming.

* * *

Florence swore she had barely put pen to paper by the time Patrick woke up and started to fuss, but before her were plans and calculations required to manufacture a diaper that changed colors when it needed to be switched out for a new one, and would probably alert parents before the infant did, thereby reducing the number of skin irritation cases. A full hour had passed.

She may be a crappy babysitter, but at least she managed to do something useful in regards to Patrick today. Happy and Toby would thank her for this.

"Ha – ha," Florence said as she tugged Patrick's foot back through the onesie and dropped the old diaper in the trash can before she picked him up. "Crappy babysitter. It's a pun. You don't care."

Patrick was still crying, so she held him against her, bouncing lightly while swaying back and forth. "You know, small thing," she said, "when you're older, you'll learn to do this on the inside." Patrick took in a deep breath and the wailing got louder. "But it's sure not stopping you from doing it this way right now, now is it?" She shifted her weight. What did he want? Did he want her to sing? Make faces? Make weird sounds? Rap  _Baby Got Back_? "What do you want from meeee," she whined, continuing to rock the infant. "Please stop crying."

Patrick made a couple more sounds and then went quiet. "Was that it?" Florence asked. "You wanted me to beg? Oh," she said upon getting a better look at the baby, "you just decided you'd rather have your fist in your mouth than cry. Got it. I suppose you don't want to hear about my diaper idea."

She outlined the idea to Patrick as they slowly descended the stairs back into the main room, because, well, he hadn't said no.

"Okay," she said, reaching into the diaper bag to grab the soft blanket that rested on top. "Tummy time." She spread the blanket evenly on the floor and then lowered Patrick down onto it. "We gotta do this now so you don't puke on me again. Still haven't forgiven you for that, by the way."

The look that the baby gave her almost convinced Florence that he was reminding her that that had been her fault.

Her phone buzzed again. Florence's heart leapt when she saw the contents of the message.

_From: Happy QC Phone_

_On our way home. Mission successful. Toby is going to tell you I asked about Patrick obsessively. I asked about him a perfectly normal amount._

Florence smirked in spite of herself, texting back a quick  _of course_  while glancing back and forth between the screen and the baby, who was wiggling about on his stomach and making annoyed sounds in his throat. "I totally get it, kid," she said. "I'm not happy about the situation either. But it's almost over. Your mom and dad are coming back. Soon."

Keeping an eye on the infant, Florence picked up the few things that belonged in the diaper bag and dropping them back inside. "I don't know how long you're supposed to do this for," she told Patrick when she walked back to the blanket, "so I'm just gonna pick you up and put you back in the carrier, okay?" Happy and Toby hadn't just gotten to the garage when Cabe arrived with their case – Florence had seen their car in the lot for almost an hour before the older man arrived – but she felt like she needed to have everything as it was when they'd left Patrick in her care. Leave everything the way you found it, that was what she'd always been taught.

Patrick looked up at her and grinned.

"Hey, he likes you!"

Florence jumped and whirled around. She hadn't even heard the door open, but suddenly she wasn't the oldest one in the garage. "Hello," she said, "I see the case was successful."

"Well, we're not in a million pieces," Happy said, "so I'd say that makes it a pretty successful day."

"See Happy?" Toby said, sitting on the couch in front of his son, "I told you she'd keep him alive." He looked at Florence. "She was so worried. It was so cute."

"Says the guy who actually managed to drive so fast on the way back he left both Cabe  _and_  Walter in his dust," Happy said. "And you say I'm a danger on the road? Can't get back to the kid if we're dead."

"Well, we're not, are we?" Toby asked. Florence was confused for a moment at the apparent tension between them, but then she caught the glint in Happy's eye and the small grin on Toby's. She shook her head slightly. She wasn't sure she would ever understand people.

"For real though," Toby said, gesturing to Florence and pointing at Patrick. "He likes you. He was smiling. After two months or so their reflex smile is gone. Smiles at three months are real. He likes you."

"Oh dear, Patrick," Florence said, brushing her fingers over his forehead, "three months old and you've already made your first mistake."

Patrick giggled.

Florence smiled.


End file.
